Latibulate
by The Bad Joke
Summary: Fear. It is the first thing his body comes to know.


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**Latibulate**

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Fear.

It is the first thing his body comes to know as he is lifted into the air. The cold water from which he emerges gently rolls off of his skin, falling in generous drops. His flesh crawls when air touches it, feeling obscure for being given the chance to breathe after being denied such a thing for so long. By the time he is being gently eased onto the frozen surface of the lake, his body has thawed out. But not completely. There is still a coldness that lingers within him. Something inside tells him that he will always feel like this.

Curiosity is the next emotion his body becomes aware of when he picks up a long, thick branch. It pounds with power. Power that he is more than able to control. _His_ power. He is then introduced to the feeling of wonder. His bright blue eyes sparkle when he realizes what he is capable of doing with this object - long streaks of ice bloom along trees on command - and without it.

He learns that he can fly.

He also learns that he can fall. Nonetheless, he quickly gains knowledge of his powers. Besides this new-found side of himself, he figures that he is like everyone else when he approaches a nearby village, filled with people and homes. He thinks that he can simply walk among them. That he can simply enter and fit into this new-found society. And he's almost right.

Almost.

The feeling of an actual human-being running right through him is a feeling he can't even describe. To have someone not notice him completely and just move past him like he...like he...like he doesn't even exist. All of it is just incredibly strange and shocking and above else, terrifying. All of that, wrapped into one emotion that he can't place, but is absolutely afraid of.

No, he hates this feeling. He wants it to go away. And as soon as possible.

But it doesn't.

He flees from the village, finding what might have once been a home, abandoned. He sits on the floor, clenching the branch, trying to keep himself together. But how can he? He was just brought into this weird world; he is practically still a baby. And with that, he cries for the first time, long and hard, not having a clue of what to do with himself.

And he is scared.

He is so scared.

A sound booms in the house. Loud enough for him to catch his breath in his throat, to stop his crying. Everything around him seems to stand still for the longest moment, and then all of a sudden a voice like silk consumes the air.

"Child," it whispers.

Despite how the voice is soothing, there is something deadly about it. Something that he does not completely trust. He gulps once, twice. It might be smart to ignore it, but he is so confused and scared, and what if the voice helps him? No one seems to be able to see him, so this voice might be a second chance of some sort.

"Yes?"

Everything is quiet for the longest time. He begins to wonder if the voice is something he merely made up. The thought depresses him. Sadness. He doesn't like this feeling either.

"...You can hear me?" Something like disbelief is recognizable in the voice as it asks.

"Yes," he says, maybe a little too fast, suddenly very curious. He finds his grip on the branch loosening slightly. Perhaps he should keep his guard up, but instead he makes himself completely vulnerable to the voice. He listens closely and his eyes scan the house, almost expecting to see something.

"What is your name?"

His eyes browse the entire house, but still nothing. He is so concentrated on this, he almost does not realize a question was asked. He goes to say something, but his lips merely move without a voice. His name. His _name_. What is his-

"Jack Frost."

"Jack Frost," the voice reiterates. A low chuckle. "And what brings you here, _Jack Frost_?"

Jack involuntarily finds his body jumping a bit at this. In a confused, quiet voice, he says quickly, "This isn't your house, is it? If it is, I-I'm sorry. I just did know where else to go, an- and, I was scared. No one could _see_ me-"

"Hush."

Jack brings a hand to his mouth, somehow feeling ashamed. Has he said too much? He waits anxiously for something - he's not quite sure what - to happen. He waits, but...nothing happens. Fear bubbles up within him. Has he caused the voice to leave? Oh, no. _No, no, no, no._

"Are you still there?" he asks as he brings himself to his feet, branch in hand. He waits for a little, but still, nothing happens. The only sounds that are clear in the entire house are his heavy breathing, and the occasional creak of a floorboard. An animal of some sort runs by outside.

"Hello?" he calls out.

No answer.

"Hello?" he calls out, more desperate.

No answer.

As he lets out a quick breath, a harsh sound escapes him as well. It is something between a laugh and a cry. It is something broken. His head swings from left to right, up to down, just looking, just searching for anything. Yet again, there is nothing.

"No," he gasps. "No, no. Please. Please, come back. I-I'm sorry. I'm sorry if it was something I said or did. Just, come back. Please. _Please_." Jack is on his knees by now, not even trying to fight back tears. That emotion that he can't quite place returns. It rushes into him. His body trembles under its influence.

"Don't leave me alone."

An overwhelming presence suddenly fills the room then. A black mist of sorts wraps loosely around Jack's figure. He is up on his feet quickly, quickly, wiping away the tears that are trying to solidify on his face. He backs himself up in a corner, holding the branch out in front of him, as if it can provide some sort of protection. The mist continues to roll until it is only a foot away from Jack. He doesn't know how to feel. Should he be scared? Shocked? ...Happy?

A body gradually forms in the darkness until there is a man in front of him, standing at least a foot taller than him. Jack's eyes go wide as he takes in the sight of this dark being. He doesn't know what to do or say. However, regardless of how this man looks, Jack is relieved.

"You can see me too," the dark figure states plainly.

"Who are you?"

The man glances down at his fingers, which move idly along each other as he considers the question. What Jack doesn't know is that this man goes by many names. He could bore the boy with his history, but he won't, so he just settles for, "Pitch Black."

Jack feels himself nodding slightly. Pitch Black. Strange name.

"You don't find my appearance unsettling?"

Jack shakes his head quickly. He is just overjoyed that someone can see him.

Pitch merely cocks his head upwards slightly, not looking very impressed, but rather disappointed. His golden eyes gaze down at the branch set firmly in Jack's hands. Now he looks interested.

"What is that?"

Jack looks down at the branch in his hands, and then back up at the man. He taps the tip of the branch against the low ceiling, causing it to bloom with ice that sprawls throughout almost the entirety of the house. He looks back to the man, whose eyes are fixated on the ice that was just created from seemingly nothing. Jack grins when the two make eye contact once more, proud.

But Pitch just lets out a chuckle. Jack's heart sinks.

"You go by the name Jack Frost, and you make...frost. Cute. Very cute," Pitch says in a highly amused tone. A few more chuckles escape his lips as he proceeds to pat one of Jack's cheeks without warning. Jack jumps at the sensation of being touched and turns his head away to prevent further contact.

"Are you making fun of me?"

A smirk. "Oh, not at all, Jacky Boy. But, I will be taking my leave now. I think you will be able to fare well on your own."

With that, the dark figure takes a step back, beginning to recede into the darkness that swirls around him. Jack's heart almost stops as a sense of panic erupts within him. He takes a quick step forward, extending an arm without really meaning to.

"Wait," Jack says, before quickly adding, "please."

And Pitch does, almost like he was expecting Jack to say that. Still, he takes a step forward and leans in close to Jack, giving him a hard, frightening glare. Jack just stares into the pair of eyes ahead of him, his own big and desperate and almost pleading.

"And why should I stay? Do you have something to say to me?"

Jack does not say anything. Pitch looks somewhat annoyed but does not make any motion to leave, which may or may not be considered a good thing. Jack breaks eye contact several times to look down nervously. His heart is beating so fast.

"I...I don't know," he says finally, feeling pathetic.

Jack almost expects for Pitch to disappear then, but instead he asks, "What are you so afraid of, Jack?"

Jack breathes in sharply, and trying not to upset himself further, he says, "I don't want to be alone."

The dark figure smirks knowingly.

"I'm afraid of not being noticed. No one- no one saw me. I don't understand. Will everyone else be like that too? Will no one ever see me? I just don't understand, and I'm... Is this going to last forever, or just now? I don't-"

He feels a finger press against his lips, prompting him to stop talking. Pitch takes a step back, and turns on his heel, returning to the darkness from which he manifested. He stands there for a moment, his hands carefully placed behind his back.

"Feel free to come with me," his voice is only above a whisper. "Or, stay here. I can't say I particularly care about your decision. Just know that I will not be giving you such an option again."

Jack takes a step forward without even thinking. He stops himself from running into the darkness. Can he really trust this man? He certainly looks like he _can't_ be trusted, at all. Just by the way the darkness dances around him screams bad news. But, if Jack is to stay here, what will become of him? He really didn't try necessarily hard to get anyone's attention. Maybe, just maybe, there is someone out there that can see him. He just needs to try harder... But what if there really _isn't_ anyone that can see him? What if he ends up being wrong?

He would be all alone.

Jack takes another step forward. And another. He walks until he is fully emerged in the darkness.

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I just really like the idea of Pitch finding Jack right away, so he can mold him into something horrifying, and ultimately corrupt him. Will this ficlet be as epic as that? No, probably not. Still, I'll write another chapter. Hopefully.


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